Captive Target: Six Assassins Book 4

by Heskett, Jim

  Veronica sighed and thumbed the button on the key fob. Ember’s hands immediately flew to her neck as the wrist cuffs magnetized to the neck cuff.

  Then, she felt a pinch in her right palm as the nail she had stolen pushed itself into the flesh of her hand, drawn by the power of the magnets in her neck cuff. She grunted in pain as Veronica stopped in front of her and thumbed off the button.

  Ember collapsed to the floor, panting, all of her muscles taxed. Now was the time to attack, with Veronica hovering over her, but she couldn’t muster the strength. Her muscles refused to rally.

  Veronica reached down and pried open her palm, then she frowned at the nail sticking out. She plucked it and walked it back over to the makeshift window.

  Ember tried to gather her strength, but she had trouble pushing herself to her feet. Her chest heaved, her head buzzed, and she couldn’t support her own weight.

  Veronica reinserted the nail into the wall and then pressed the magnetizer button again.

  Ember writhed on the floor as Veronica marched past and then back up the stairs. For two whole minutes, Ember stayed there, magnetic energy pulsing through her. Like an invisible set of chains, holding her on the floor. She could feel the blood from the puncture wound on her palm seeping out.

  Veronica came back down the stairs and stopped in front of Ember. In one hand, she held a tube of epoxy or superglue.

  "Huh," she said, her voice sounding far away through the intensity of the magnet power. "I never even thought about the nails in that damn thing."

  Then she walked out of Ember’s sight. Thirty seconds later, she returned and twisted the cap back on the glue. She pressed the button on the key fob to turn it off, frowned at Ember, then said, “Stealing the nail was a good idea. You almost outsmarted me. But, you should know by now, that ain’t gonna happen. Not all the way.”

  Ember panted and took a couple of deep breaths so she could speak. "Go ahead and kill me, then. I've had enough."

  “Can’t do that now. Curtis will be here in the morning.”

  “Your brother, he’s a civilian?”

  Veronica nodded. “Electrician. He knows what we do, but he’s not a fan of the Club.”

  “You’re going to bring a civilian into this? You’ll go before the Review Board for that, definitely.”

  Veronica knelt down, shaking her head at Ember. “Oh, honey, it’s so beyond Club rules right now. You think if we haven’t done this by tomorrow at midnight, I’m just going to let you go because my seven days are up? Not a chance.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened, Veronica. It was a mistake.”

  “I know. And you’ll have a chance to atone when my brother gets here. You can pay with your life, and that’ll be the last useful thing you do. Sleep well, Ember.”

  Veronica picked up the tray of Ember’s dinner and walked it back up the stairs. Ember, panting, exhausted, dragged herself to her feet. She wobbled as she limped over to the cage around the window to see Veronica had put glue over the tops of the nails. She tapped it to find it already dry.

  Ember could possibly pick through the heavy glue and retrieve another nail. But would it matter? Even if Ember managed to get a nail out and then jab it into the tiny crack in the seam of the controller box in the closet, it might do nothing. The nail might not enter the box, it might actually fly the other way and jab into Ember's neck because of the magnetized wrist and neck cuffs.

  As long as Veronica had that key fob, there was nothing Ember could do to stop her. Once that button pressed, Ember had no agency over her motor functions. Veronica was in complete control.

  This was hopeless. Ember would die in this room tomorrow, just as Veronica had promised.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  PASHA

  DAY SEVEN

  Pasha woke when a clump of wet snow fell from a tree onto the windshield of his Toyota. He sat up straight, gripped the steering wheel, and tilted his head left and right to crack his neck. He could now add back pain to the curses plaguing his body at the moment. But that was no worry; his trigger finger still worked as designed.

  His FN Five-SeveN pistol sat on the passenger seat, so he took the dossier on November Clarke and placed it on top. He was in a residential neighborhood, after all. No need for any passersby to gawk, since these rental car windows were not tinted.

  At the edge of the city of Golden, twisting streets of massive, nearly identical houses lined the mostly treeless neighborhood. Rolling hills that might have been green otherwise were now drenched in snow. Maybe half a meter in some places. Mailboxes and street signs wore white domes. The streets were slushy, with gray snow along the gutters. Still very few cars out, especially in this neighborhood.

  There were scarecrows and ghosts in some yards, which reminded Pasha that today was Halloween. Not a holiday he was familiar with, except for what he’d seen on TV and in the movies. This did present some additional complications. If he remembered correctly, Halloween brought out the children to wander door to door after dark, asking for candy. If killing Ember had to wait for later, he would open the possibility of having many witnesses around.

  No, this needed to happen now.

  He rubbed his eyes to clear out the little bits of crusty sleep as a car stopped in front of a house fit for a king. The same house Pasha had been watching.

  A large, dark-skinned man emerged from the back, then said something to the driver as he tapped on his phone. He pulled a suitcase out of the trunk and then patted the car. The driver took off, leaving the heavyset man there.

  “Who are you?” Pasha said to himself, musing as he tugged on his chin. “Traveling salesman come to call?”

  The new arrival smiled toward the house as the front door opened. A woman with the same complexion and physical attributes stood on the front porch, grinning back. She wore hope on her face like someone eager to launch an exciting conversation.

  Interesting. Pasha knew Ember had a captor, but who was this new complication? A second captor? If so, why did he arrive by a car driven by someone else, therefore leaving a witness? Why did he have a suitcase?

  The man dragged his suitcase up to her and threw his arms around the woman. They beamed at each other like lovers or close siblings. They looked like they could possibly be brother and sister.

  The woman glanced around the neighborhood and then ushered her guest inside. She had not landed her eyes on the dormant Toyota sitting across the street.

  Pasha grabbed the pistol and checked Ember’s photo one last time. He hadn’t anticipated having to kill two additional people, but he still believed now was his best window for action. If this operation went smoothly, maybe he could book a flight back to Cancún for a few days. He had nothing else on his to-do list after this.

  And now he knew this was the right house.

  Pasha checked the mag and disengaged the safety. With a few breaths to steady his heart rate, he left the car and limped toward the front door.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  VERONICA

  When she saw Curtis, the struggle of the week almost felt worthwhile. She hadn't been in the same city with her brother since Zoe's funeral, nearly twelve months ago now. They had still talked on the phone, chatted over video, but to experience him live and in the flesh was a whole other matter.

  A wave of sadness bubbled up from Veronica’s toes, swirling through her torso and into her chest. Inside the house, she put her arms around him, even with the cold air marching in from the front door. Being there, feeling her brother holding tight against her, the sadness did not take hold. She wouldn’t let it.

  Veronica thought of those conversations about what they would do if they ever had the chance to avenge Zoe’s death. Sometimes, late at night, over wine, they would long-distance plot how it would work. Maybe Curtis had no idea how serious Veronica had been about the whole matter. Maybe revenge fantasies were merely a way for Curtis to vanquish his demons and process his grief.

  It was time to find out. Day seven
of Veronica’s contract to kill Ember. She had only a few more hours to complete it and erase the woman who had killed their sister. No matter what part Curtis would decide to play, Veronica had a job to finish.

  “I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve been here,” he said as he eased his suitcase down in the foyer and closed the door behind him. He shook snow off his shoulders and his eyes trailed all around the grand entrance, lingering on the chandelier above their heads. “Wow. Your new house is insane, sis.”

  “I know, it’s a little much.”

  He stopped gawking and met her eyes. She had a hard time reading his expression. Joy, a touch of sadness, apprehension, excitement. Maybe it was all those things rolled into one. He had often worn this same expression over the last twelve months.

  “Is she here?” he asked.

  Veronica nodded. “In the basement.”

  He swallowed hard, then drew in a hitching breath. “Is she chained up? You feeding her? What’s going on down there?”

  Veronica closed the space between them and put a gentle hand on his arm. "Listen, little-big brother. I know this is scary. But we have a chance to set something right that's been wrong for a long time now. She's been down there for almost a week, and I've been feeding her, talking to her. She knows what she did. I've been civil with her because I know that's what you would have wanted. More civil than she deserves, to tell the truth."

  Curtis winced. “Did you give her… a bible?”

  "She's had plenty of time to make peace with her creator if it's her soul you're worried about."

  Instead of calming, Curtis seemed even more on edge now. “I am worried about her soul. I’m worried about yours too, sis. This lifestyle you lead…”

  “We’re not going to have this conversation again. Today is not about me and what I do. This is about righting a wrong that’s gone on for way too long.”

  “I want to talk to her first. I want to look my baby sister’s killer in the eyes and see that she knows what she’s done.”

  “We can do that,” Veronica said as she gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m proud of you for coming.”

  “Of course I would come. We've been talking about this for months.”

  “Yeah, but that was talk. This is actually doing something. Are you going to be okay with going down there to question her, knowing she's gonna be dead a few minutes after that? I need to know how serious you are about what’s happening.”

  He hesitated before he gave a single head-dip as a nod. “I’m okay with it. I need to do this. We owe it to Zoe. That’s the only thing I’m keeping in my mind right now.”

  “Are you gonna stay in the room while I do it, or come back upstairs? Did you think about that? Are you willing to watch her die? You can’t ever unsee that, once it happens. You need to know what you’re gonna do.”

  “I, uh, haven’t figured that out yet.”

  She massaged his shoulder. He had trouble meeting her eyes. "You better figure it out, big brother, because it's time to take care of this. I'm going to shoot her in the stomach first and let her rot in that pain for a while. She's not going to die fast. It won't be easy to see."

  “Wow,” he said, chest heaving, sweat on his brow. “Okay. I need to wait a minute, to think. I’m not ready just yet.”

  She pulled her hand back, crossed her arms, and studied him. "Sure thing. I know it's early, but you want a drink first?"

  “Absolutely.”

  Her brother was a good Catholic, so he never refused a glass of wine or beer. Even a lifelong teetotaller would want a few glugs when faced with an unpleasant task such as this one.

  Veronica had walked halfway to the kitchen when a knock came at the door. The heavy wooden front door had slats for glass, but it was frosted, and she could only see a dark silhouette through them—a human-shaped blob hovering on the front porch.

  “You expecting someone?” Curtis asked.

  The person outside knocked again.

  “No. It’s Halloween, but I can’t imagine the kids starting this early. Probably that same idiot who keeps trying to sell me new windows. He’s the only guy I could think of who would be trying to walk around in post-blizzard Golden.”

  Curtis nodded and waved Veronica off. “I know exactly what to tell those people. I’ll handle this while you get that drink ready.”

  He set his jaw and took two lumbering steps to the door when a bullet cracked the glass and entered Curtis’ throat.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  GABE

  Gabe pulled back the curtain to watch Zach shuffle through snow, across the parking lot, to stop at the vending machine. He bought a Diet Coke and a bag of baked chips, which were satisfying in the same way skipping a planned workout was satisfying — but he knew a few days of food like this, and he'd start to feel lethargic, weighed down. Since Gabe had taken on this task of babysitting Zach, the guy had eaten most of his meals from the vending machine. It was a sad sight to see, given that Zach didn't look like the type to primarily eat vending machine garbage.

  Gabe promised himself he would stop by the grocery store and get the guy actual food to eat. Something non-perishable he could keep in his room. Maybe also a case of beer and some weed gummies to help him pass the time. Or, actually, if he were the type to get all paranoid after consuming edibles, maybe that wasn’t the best plan.

  But, right now, Gabe didn’t have the mental space to worry about Zach’s well-being. Gabe kept pondering Zach and Ember’s connection, and he had decided on lovers. He didn’t know exactly why, but Zach’s concern for her whereabouts didn’t seem like garden-variety acquaintance-level concern. He was emotionally invested in her.

  So was Gabe. He'd always cared for Ember, and he loosely held to the possibility that there could, someday, be something romantic there.

  And that's why he was already exhausted, even though he'd done nothing physical at all today. He was busy scanning the last of the hard drives stolen from the Golden Post Office, and he had a good feeling about this one. Somewhere on this hard drive was information leading to the identity of the person known as RHF. There had to be.

  Today was day seven. If Gabe wanted to find and rescue Ember, he had no more chances left after today. If she was even still alive. But, it would only take one small thing to break in his direction to give him what he needed.

  A chance. Gabe only needed a chance.

  The computer beeped, and Gabe turned around from his spot at the curtains to see the screen blinking. “What do you have for me?” he muttered to himself as he sat in the creaky desk chair in front of the motel room’s built-in desk. His eyes adjusted to the brightness emanating from the screen, the most vivid thing in the brown-decorated room.

  The screen changed and now displayed the name Rebecca Heidi Flick. After churning through a long list of current and historical member names that he’d found in a backup of a MySQL database on the hard drive, the computer had finally found someone who matched the initials.

  Gabe clicked into her profile and crossed his fingers he would find something substantial. She was a member of Golden Branch in good standing, and had been for six years. Gabe used a finger to trail down the page, trying to absorb all the text as quickly as possible. He reached the end and then clicked onto the second page of her bio info.

  Her address and phone number were listed there. Black text against a white background.

  “Holy shit,” Gabe said. Jackpot.

  He snatched his phone from next to his laptop and dialed the number. He gripped the phone so hard he thought it might snap in his fingers. Foot tapping on the carpeted floor, jaw bouncing around as he waited.

  The person on the other end picked up after the fifth ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello. Is this Rebecca?”

  “Speaking. Who is this?”

  “My name is Gabe. You don’t know me, but I’m from Boulder Branch.”

  A pause on the other end. “How did you get this number?”

>   “A lot of questionable and difficult searching. Please don’t hang up. I need to talk to you about something very important. I know you have no reason to believe I am who I say I am, but I don’t have time to list fifty-plus years of Branch history to prove it to you.”

  “Look, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know anything about ‘branches,’ so why don’t you—”

  “You were assigned a contract to kill Ember Clarke for a black spot on behalf of Golden Branch, but you traded that contract with someone else. The trading of contracts is allowed under the fifth amendment to the bylaws. It’s in section… four? I think. I’m not sure about that one, exactly.”

  “Okay, so, you know a few things. What can I do for you, Gabe?”

  “I have to know who you gave that contract to. Please, I’m running out of time.”

  Another pause. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Ember Clarke is my mentor. Please, I’m trying to save her life. I know you don’t have any obligation to tell me, and you have no reason to trust me, but I have to think if you traded that contract, you don’t want to see Ember dead, either. You had to have a reason to do what you did.”

  “Yeah,” Rebecca said. “You’re right. I like Ember. I’ve known her for a couple years, and I don’t want her dead. But, I couldn’t just sit on it, so I traded the contract to Veronica Acevedo.”

  Gabe grabbed a yellow legal pad and a pen from the bed behind him and started scribbling notes. “Why her?”

  “She was eager as hell to take it on. She said she had something personal against Ember. Before you ask, I don’t know what it is. She didn’t offer, and I didn’t want to be nosy. But she made me a deal that weighed heavily on my side. I would have been a fool not to take it.”

  “Okay, that’s all good info. Do you know her address?”